Being an Astros fan is never easy. If the team breezes to a division title, it gets knocked out in the first round of the playoffs. (If it struggles to a division title, it gets knocked out just as early.) The team seems inherently incapable of taking the big step to the next level. Last year, fresh off a series of playoff appearances, they moved into a stunning new stadium, filled each night with enthusiastic standing-room-only crowds and...they had an absolutely hideous season, flirting with the 100-loss mark. They've rebounded this year but remain frustratingly inconsistent. It's that frustration, though, that makes them the Astros. Even when they're winning, they tend to do it by winning two and losing one, never quite putting together a dominating streak. No fan will ever be truly confident until the last out of a clinching World Series game, but until then, it's enough to suffer along with the flashes of brilliance from Billy Wagner, Jeff Bagwell and Moises Alou.

When Octavio Dotel came to the Astros from the Mets in 1999, he saw himself as a starter, not a reliever. As he kept getting driven from games by opposing batters last season, he still saw himself as a starter simply going through a rough patch. And when he was demoted to the bullpen earlier this year, he saw himself as a starter who would soon work his way back into the glamour of the rotation and away from the drudgery of middle relief. Since then, Dotel has accepted the reliever's role -- and thrived in it. Billy Wagner gets the high-profile job of closing most games, but Dotel is having perhaps the best season in the majors for a setup man, the guy who gets a team through the seventh and eighth innings. It's a position that has killed the Astros in the past, and a good setup man is golden for a team making a pennant run. Dotel's decision to take one for the team and accept what he perceived as a demotion has been one of the turning points for the home team this year.

When Octavio Dotel came to the Astros from the Mets in 1999, he saw himself as a starter, not a reliever. As he kept getting driven from games by opposing batters last season, he still saw himself as a starter simply going through a rough patch. And when he was demoted to the bullpen earlier this year, he saw himself as a starter who would soon work his way back into the glamour of the rotation and away from the drudgery of middle relief. Since then, Dotel has accepted the reliever's role -- and thrived in it. Billy Wagner gets the high-profile job of closing most games, but Dotel is having perhaps the best season in the majors for a setup man, the guy who gets a team through the seventh and eighth innings. It's a position that has killed the Astros in the past, and a good setup man is golden for a team making a pennant run. Dotel's decision to take one for the team and accept what he perceived as a demotion has been one of the turning points for the home team this year.

Beyond the well-manicured youth diamonds of Bayland is the always reliable Field of Dreams: the domain of the Harris County Senior Softball League. These participants, of course, also are kids, ranging from the tender age of 50 upward into the octogenarian ranks. They feature some athletes who could give Triple-A upstarts a real run for their money. And they also include players long past their prime, reduced to a trot or a lob toss from second to first. From the first pitch forward, there are feisty arguments, genuine rivalry, a few long-running feuds -- and the finest kind of gentlemanly sportsmanship seen anywhere in these parts. Pro ball may continue to evoke rich (even patriotic) passions by citizens searching for the nostalgic security of the way the game used to be, before shopping-mall arenas and mega-salary standoffs. The gang at Bayland believes there's more to be had than a $6 beer and passive spectator's seat for overpaid stars. The finest tribute still is feeling the rough texture of a sandy infield, and a smile after a sharply struck single. When it comes to a love of the game, the Harris County seniors are in a league of their own.

Beyond the well-manicured youth diamonds of Bayland is the always reliable Field of Dreams: the domain of the Harris County Senior Softball League. These participants, of course, also are kids, ranging from the tender age of 50 upward into the octogenarian ranks. They feature some athletes who could give Triple-A upstarts a real run for their money. And they also include players long past their prime, reduced to a trot or a lob toss from second to first. From the first pitch forward, there are feisty arguments, genuine rivalry, a few long-running feuds -- and the finest kind of gentlemanly sportsmanship seen anywhere in these parts. Pro ball may continue to evoke rich (even patriotic) passions by citizens searching for the nostalgic security of the way the game used to be, before shopping-mall arenas and mega-salary standoffs. The gang at Bayland believes there's more to be had than a $6 beer and passive spectator's seat for overpaid stars. The finest tribute still is feeling the rough texture of a sandy infield, and a smile after a sharply struck single. When it comes to a love of the game, the Harris County seniors are in a league of their own.

Being an Astros fan is never easy. If the team breezes to a division title, it gets knocked out in the first round of the playoffs. (If it struggles to a division title, it gets knocked out just as early.) The team seems inherently incapable of taking the big step to the next level. Last year, fresh off a series of playoff appearances, they moved into a stunning new stadium, filled each night with enthusiastic standing-room-only crowds and...they had an absolutely hideous season, flirting with the 100-loss mark. They've rebounded this year but remain frustratingly inconsistent. It's that frustration, though, that makes them the Astros. Even when they're winning, they tend to do it by winning two and losing one, never quite putting together a dominating streak. No fan will ever be truly confident until the last out of a clinching World Series game, but until then, it's enough to suffer along with the flashes of brilliance from Billy Wagner, Jeff Bagwell and Moises Alou.

Galveston's Stewart Road is unknown to all but the most curious of island day-trippers. Running parallel to FM 3005 from 61st Street all the way to 13 Mile Road, this scenic byway cuts through the live oak-studded pastures and salt marshes that offer up a hint of what Galveston must have looked like when Jean Lafitte was afoot. These same features offer up a variety of habitats for hundreds of species of birds, ranging from tiny golden warblers to shocking pink, primordial, pterodactyl-like spoonbill ibises. (Also, there are sometimes grisly remains of birds snagged on fishhooks that dangle from the power lines thanks to the erroneous casting of some anglers.) This is an ornithological adventure, tailor-made for the car-happy Houstonian. You rarely have to step out of the wonders of a/c for a fruitful trip.

Galveston's Stewart Road is unknown to all but the most curious of island day-trippers. Running parallel to FM 3005 from 61st Street all the way to 13 Mile Road, this scenic byway cuts through the live oak-studded pastures and salt marshes that offer up a hint of what Galveston must have looked like when Jean Lafitte was afoot. These same features offer up a variety of habitats for hundreds of species of birds, ranging from tiny golden warblers to shocking pink, primordial, pterodactyl-like spoonbill ibises. (Also, there are sometimes grisly remains of birds snagged on fishhooks that dangle from the power lines thanks to the erroneous casting of some anglers.) This is an ornithological adventure, tailor-made for the car-happy Houstonian. You rarely have to step out of the wonders of a/c for a fruitful trip.

All things being fairly equal in the equipment and weights department, what makes a gym stand out? For us, it's cleanliness. Immaculate describes Fitness Exchange, with personnel making sure it stays that way all throughout the day. A smudge on a mirror lasts less than an hour before someone comes to wipe it away. The floors are vacuumed every night, even if there isn't a speck in sight. The locker rooms are always tidy, which brings us to another reason Fitness Exchange is head and deltoids above the others. The men's and women's locker rooms have their very own wet and dry saunas, as well as hot tubs for relaxing after an arduous workout. Located in the Montrose, the clientele is representative of the neighborhood, but not exclusive. Unlike some downtown gyms, the parking is free, and the club is so accessible, you can't use traffic as an excuse not to work out. And when it comes to working up a sweat, we need to eliminate as many excuses as possible.

All things being fairly equal in the equipment and weights department, what makes a gym stand out? For us, it's cleanliness. Immaculate describes Fitness Exchange, with personnel making sure it stays that way all throughout the day. A smudge on a mirror lasts less than an hour before someone comes to wipe it away. The floors are vacuumed every night, even if there isn't a speck in sight. The locker rooms are always tidy, which brings us to another reason Fitness Exchange is head and deltoids above the others. The men's and women's locker rooms have their very own wet and dry saunas, as well as hot tubs for relaxing after an arduous workout. Located in the Montrose, the clientele is representative of the neighborhood, but not exclusive. Unlike some downtown gyms, the parking is free, and the club is so accessible, you can't use traffic as an excuse not to work out. And when it comes to working up a sweat, we need to eliminate as many excuses as possible.

Ain't nuttin' fancy 'bout Nick's. And "nuttin'" is definitely the way it's pronounced around here, where the Up Nawth atmosphere is thick (the Web site offers links to the official team sites for the Rockets, the Astros and the Green Bay Packers). Nick's ain't no flashy, Vegas-style establishment with TVs on every table and the all-too-standard display of jock paraphernalia on the walls. It's just a neighborhood place for people with a sports jones and a healthy appetite -- for both big burgers and the occasional lingerie show (dat Nick, he's all class). The kitchen stays open late. You got your pool and darts, and you got people screaming at the big-screen TVs like they were at the stadium -- especially if that stadium is Lambeau Field. Sure, it's a long way out Westheimer, and parking can be a hassle, but Nick's is an unpretentious antidote to the big-bucks sports bars you can find all over the city.

Ain't nuttin' fancy 'bout Nick's. And "nuttin'" is definitely the way it's pronounced around here, where the Up Nawth atmosphere is thick (the Web site offers links to the official team sites for the Rockets, the Astros and the Green Bay Packers). Nick's ain't no flashy, Vegas-style establishment with TVs on every table and the all-too-standard display of jock paraphernalia on the walls. It's just a neighborhood place for people with a sports jones and a healthy appetite -- for both big burgers and the occasional lingerie show (dat Nick, he's all class). The kitchen stays open late. You got your pool and darts, and you got people screaming at the big-screen TVs like they were at the stadium -- especially if that stadium is Lambeau Field. Sure, it's a long way out Westheimer, and parking can be a hassle, but Nick's is an unpretentious antidote to the big-bucks sports bars you can find all over the city.